The Pirate John Williams' Past
by C4TN1PnJuneBug
Summary: John Williams is a pirate, raised on the seas on the pirate ship, the Siren. This is the story of the tragedies in his life. His beloved father's death, his true love's disappearance, and his crew mates abandoning him to rot in Port Royal's prison till tried and hung. This is also how he meets one of his new friends, who seems to be related to the widely known Captain Jack Sparrow.
1. John's Childhood

**Author's Note** – John Williams is a made up character of mine and this is his back story. This all happened to him in the past. The first part of the story is his childhood but the rest is when he's 17-24 years old. This is all supposed to take place in the Pirates of The Caribbean world and references will be made.

* * *

John Williams was born in the port of Tortuga in 1819. His parents names were Cynthia and Kristopher Williams. Kristopher was the captain of the famous pirate ship, the Siren. He was one of the most wanted pirates of that area. To his son, however, he had always been known as the hero, the good guy, the one he wanted to grow up to be. John had been growing up on the pirate ship with no fears whatsoever. His father taught him to be fearless. Ever since John was seven years old, he was different than the cheery boy he was known as.

"Fatherrr," John would tug on captain Kristopher's jacket. The little boy had dark brown eyes and raven black hair, barely reaching the bottom of his neck. He always wore a loose white shirt that at least went down to his knees. The seven year old was impatient, "You said you'd teach me ta shoot a pistollll.." He whines.

"I ain't gonna teach a whiney baby," his father says with a smile as he looks down at his son, taking his eyes away from the horizon. The man had brown eyes and raven hair like his son had. He could tell that his son would grow up to be a handsome man like himself. John sticks out his lips and crosses his arms much like a pouty child. They both then smile. "Alright, boy, I'll teach you right after dark, got it?" John grins.

"Alright!" He smiles and takes out his small wooden sword. He runs down the steps that led to the helm of the ship. He runs around, looking for his friend. "Thomas!" He shouts.

The fifteen year old red head sneaks up behind him and scares him, grabbing his shoulders. Thomas' eyes were a light brown, and he was tall and thin. At least compared to the short John, he was. "Boo!" he shouts. John nearly wet himself and he shouts.

"Tommy! You barnacle!" He shouts at him, prodding Thomas' stomach with his sword. He chuckles and looks about the deck. "How 'bout a duel, ay? One on one! Whoever wins gets captaincy tomorrah!"

Thomas raises his chin, "Quite the offer, lad, yet, wot about the current captain? Wot'll happen to him?" He raises an eyebrow with a small smirk.

"Hmm.." John thinks as he rubs his chin as if he had a beard. "We can have him walk the plank!" He says as he points the sword at his father, who was raising his eyebrows.

"Oh my! My own son! How could me dear Johnny commit mutiny against 'is own father? How cruel!" He does a dramatic pose, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as if he were about to faint. John smirks.

"So sorry, pops, but I gotta obtain me own ship _somehow_." He smiles. He then turns to Thomas. " _En garde!_ " he shouts as he attacks.

Thomas swiftly blocks the attack with his own wooden sword. He had a real sword, but he wouldn't use it against John, no. He didn't want to hurt the lovable child. Everyone on the ship loved John. Not only was he a lovable little kid, he was nice, friendly, and generous. Thomas and John sword-fought for a while before Thomas let John win, pretending to get stabbed in the chest, catching John's sword in between his arm and his torso.

"Ohh… Errggg…" Thomas falls to his knees and jerks as John smirks and tugs his wooden sword out of his chest.

"Any last words, Redden?" He grins. Thomas tilts his head back with a small smile.

"Congratulations, captain Williams" He says, faking a weak and dying voice. He was honestly holding back laughter. John then pokes his stomach with his wooden sword and Thomas falls backwards. For added drama, John rests his foot on Thomas' stomach.

"I have defeated the evil beast, pop! Aren't ye proud o' me?" He says, looking to his father. He tilts his head at his father's expression. He frowns a bit and sees him looking into the distance of the ship's course. "Pop?" He follows his father's gaze. There was a ship in the distance, bearing the flag of a royal navy sign. He frowns slightly, having never actually been on the ship when it last ran into the navy guard. He remembers seeing them in the ports they went to, but he hadn't seen them in a while.

Captain Kristopher didn't hesitate. "All of ye, prepare fer company! There's a high chance we're gonna run inta them navy guard! In the case o' that, I want all ya dogs ready!" He shouts to his crew. He then looks at Thomas. "I am trusting you ta keep me little boy safe. No matter wot. Got it?" He tells him with a strict face.

"Aye, captain." He said as he stood up. He looks at John. John seemed confused and scared. John looks at the ship and frowns slightly. "Cmon, Johnny, we need ta go into the dinin' hall. We're just gonna stay in there for a little while, aye?" He smiles calmly. John nods slightly, still a bit scared at what may happen.

About fifteen minutes later, John was learning more about sword-fighting. He tried his best at every fight he engages in. But during the middle of their duel, shouting and gun fire is heard from the deck. John's eyes widen and he scurries to the door, but Thomas stops him, looking serious.

"We hafta stay in here." He says firmly. John looks up at him with puppy dog eyes.

"But I wanna see the fight! I don't want to be forgotten! I want ta help!" He balls up his hands into loose fists and holds them to his chest. However cute little John may be, Thomas still refused. John narrows his eyes and scrambles in between Thomas' legs to the door, pausing and looking through the crack. Thomas joins him as the battle plays out. One of our men. Four of theirs. Injury by injury inflicted as most shot at each other while other pirates would loot what they could, sneaking onto the navy men's ship. John looked at all the men, wearing wigs and pointing out to Thomas that they look like they're wearing sheep on their heads. They both chuckle a bit. A gunshot fires and John looks at the target. He smiles slightly as he sees one of the navy men fall off the edge of the ship. He sees that there aren't enough navy men left, and they turn 'round and retreat.

As the navy ship leaves, the rest of the pirates on their ship returning with loot, about three shots are heard. John looks at the smoke from the muskets that shot the fires, coming from the navy ship, and he hears a thud as someone falls to the deck floor. Shouts from the crew are heard.

John's eyes widen.

"Captain!"


	2. Johnny

Chapter 2

Author's Note – I'm going to put it bluntly. I know my stories suck. That's okay. If you think that, tell me. Tell me how you want me to fix it by leaving me a review :3 Alright back to the story.

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\- "Captain!" -

John doesn't hesitate to swing the door open and dash out, escaping Thomas' grip by merely an inch. He runs onto the deck and trips over a slight crack in the wood, but that doesn't stop him. He reaches out toward his father, who was on the deck, yet surrounded by crewmembers, fixing him up. Thomas grabs John's hand and pulls his away, turning him to face him.

"John. Ye mustn't look," He holds John's shoulders firmly. John looks at him in the eyes.

"Then tell me wot happened. Tell me. Now!" He tears up, impatient.

"John. You're father's been shot. Ye hafta stay outta the way while they fix him up." Thomas says, staying calm. He hugs John tightly, having to have knelt to reach his height. He sighs and speaks to John quietly. "Don't cry.. Hush." He says.

John doesn't cry. He never has except for when he was a baby. He just closes his eyes tight and imagines his father with three big holes going straight through his stomach, symbolizing a triangle. He smiles just slightly at the vision and looks up at Thomas.

"He's not gonna go ta Davy Jones' locker, is 'e?.." John says with a small smile, his eyebrows curving up slightly toward his forehead. Thomas frowns slightly.

"No, he's not gonna go ta Davy Jones' locker, I promise ye." He smiles slightly to John then looks to the crewmembers by the captain. They seemed more relaxed, sitting on their knees as they work, Kristopher letting out a groan every now and again. He looks to his wife, who was right next to him at the moment.

"Cynthia… I love ya, but I need ta speak.. To me son." He says weakly to her, remaining quiet and trying to ignore the stabbing pains coming from his wounds as they're being cleaned and sewn. He motions for his wife to go get him with a flick of his good wrist. She looks to Thomas and gives a small nod, tears falling down both of her cheeks.

Thomas looks back at John. "Cmon, the captain wishes ta speak with 'is first mate." He frowns slightly and lets go of John, standing and walking him toward his father, his hand on his back.

John looks at his father through the people. He was sweating and he looked like he was hurt so bad.. He could see the wounds and counted them.. One. Two. Three. Every shot he heard was a hit. His leg. His stomach. His shoulder. When he saw this his hands flung up and he covered his mouth. He walks to his fathers good shoulder, his right shoulder, and sits by him.

"..Father.." John manages. He looks at his fathers face. He was smiling. Despite all the blood he was losing and the certainty that he wouldn't make the hour, he smiles. John thinks to himself, He's so brave.. I want to be like him.. I want to die without regrets. Without sorrow. His thoughts were so mature for a child his age, but he would mature early anyways.

"Johnny.. Don't cry.." He says quietly, looking at John's watery eyes. "Promise me ya won't cry.. Alright? Don't cry in memory of me.. Okay?" He twitches slightly and slowly raises his good arm, holding John's small hand gently. John nods a bit.

"I promise.." He says and he wipes his eye, although no tears fell and no wetness covered his hand. He looks into his father's brown eyes, frowning a bit. They flutter in attempts to stay open and keep consciousness.

"I love ye, Johnny, my boy.." His father says as he goes unconscious. He had been in so much pain but he was keeping it to himself and showing no fear for his son. He was so afraid. He didn't want his son to grow up and fear death like he did, however, so he made it seem as though death was a peaceful thing.

John stares at his father's unconscious body as the crew members continue working on him. He holds his father's hand for a bit longer, although it had gone limp along with the rest of his body, to feel his pulse.

John was soon convinced that his father wouldn't die. He's seen the crewmembers work on injuries that would have brought death almost instantly. He had faith. Thomas and Cynthia take John away from his father, to the captain's cabin, which was through a door standing by the helm. They sit John on the bed and talk to him, Cynthia on his right and Thomas on his left.

"Don't worry." Cynthia says with a soothing voice, rubbing her hand up and down John's back to soothe him. She had no worries of her husband dying. She didn't love him anyways. But she at least pretended to when around John. John saw right through the act. He'd caught her cheating more than once, but he didn't say anything about it.

"I'm not worrying." John says blankly. He had no emotion whatsoever in his face. He had no reason to worry. He didn't believe that his father was going to die, and he refuses to accept that his father wasn't going to be there in the morning. "Tomorrow I'll wake up and we'll just continue livin' life like we always 'ave." He speaks a bit quietly, nearly mumbling the words. Cynthia smiles slightly.

"Johnny-" She starts, but gets cut off.

"No," John looks at his mom. "Don't call me that." She frowns slightly and nods. Thomas looks between the two then to John's mother with a small frown. John gets up off the bed and walks around the room, picking up things and attempting to read his fathers letters and notes. He acted as if everything was normal.

Thomas turns to look at Cynthia with a small frown. "Who's gonna be captain?" He says quietly.

She sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. "We'll go to port and I'll have you stay with John while we take a vote. Until then, I will be the captain.." She nods slightly.

Thomas nods and looks at John, still talking to Cynthia. "Do ya think he'll get over wot happened t'day?" He raises an eyebrow slightly as he sees John screwing with something he shouldn't.

She nods. "He's a strong one. I'm sure that this will only make him stronger." She gives a faint smile. "He loves his father, and as long as 'e does, that'll give 'im reason ta strain on."

Thomas nods in agreement. "Yeah.."

John wanders aimlessly around the room and he stops next to his father's desk. He yanks out the chair and sits underneath, hiding his face in thought.

John grew so much in so little time that it had a mental effect on him. He couldn't process it all at once. The first thing that popped into his mind at that point was actually quite random.

"He was gonna teach me how ta shoot a pistol." John looks up from his legs. Thomas looks at him.

"I can teach ya if ya want." He smiles slightly. Yet John shakes his head.

"No… He said he'd teach me, so I only want ta learn from him." He nods slightly in saying that he'll keep his word. "That or I'll figure it out meself."

Cynthia and Thomas sigh, looking forward as their legs dangle off the edge.


	3. Mommy Issues

Author's Note: There's going to be no more child John, I'm sorry : -( but not too much happens in his childhood and I am trying to get to the juicy parts. Long story short: Mom cheats, Thomas gets a bit fatter, John grows older and becomes the captain, and he still doesn't know how to use a pistol, but he's damn good at sword-fighting.

* * *

John slowly opens his eyes. He had fallen asleep in his bed as usual, but he had to remain in Port, the whole crew waiting on his mother's return. John had gotten to be the captain at the age of 16. The youngest captain known to sail the ocean. Thomas had been training him, as well as everyone on board. They trusted he would be a good captain. Yet they gave captaincy to someone so young, they don't know what to expect from him.

He slowly sits up and shuts his eyes tight. He had a slight head ache. He didn't know what from, since he hadn't started drinking, his mother not allowing him to. He knows no matter how old he gets, she'll just nag at him. He looks out the window, his first thoughts of the day not bringing him into a relatively good mood. He gets up and puts a shirt on, along with his coat and boots, before heading out onto deck, looking at the emptiness. He knows that each crew member could be in one of three places; the dining hall, out in port, or below deck, asleep. He sighs, knowing he was the only one on the ship that is awake.

He walks down the steps from the helm to the main deck, turning and heading to the dining hall, which was below the helm. He opens the door with a lazy grunt and walks to the table, seeing the food sprawled. He twitches his nose slightly at this. He looks around the room as he grabs an apple. It was a large room, having a small corner taken out of it to be used as the kitchen. The dining table was long and rectangular, with at least eight or nine chairs on either long side. The sorter sides had one to three seats, which was unordinary but he just shrugs it off. _Unordinary table for an unordinary ship, aye?_ He thinks as he takes a bite of the apple, walking around the room. _At least it's not littered with drunken sailors' unconscious bodies…_ he thinks as he leaves the room.

He sighs as he looks out at the Port. It seemed rather hectic for how early it is. He chuckles thinking of how many stupid pirates must have horrible hangovers from the previous night. That's how every day at Tortuga went. Wake up and whine about your migrane, drink it off and make trades and gamble, and by the time night will have fallen, you will have been the drunkest you've ever been. Some of these sailors might just be lucky enough to sleep with the poor sluts that littered the place. _I almost feel bad for them. But it's really their choice to live that lifestyle.. If they really wanted, they could get an actual job instead of offerin' their goods up for gold._ John thinks. He sighs. _What a sad place._

John walks through Tortuga, searching for a couple of his crew mates. He sees a few and tells them to let the others know that he was going to leave at noon that day. No exceptions. He soon goes back to the ship after buying necessary good from the vendors that were scattered around. He sits on the steps on deck, sharpening his knife as he waits for his mother to appear. He wasn't in a good mood and he was about to make sure that his mother was fully aware of that.

Soon enough, Cynthia walks up the ramp, holding her head in one hand, and a small satchel of gold in the other. She had forgotten her plans on hiding it from her son, in which she knew he wouldn't be happy about. She sighs and tries to fix her hair with one hand. He looks up from his knife and stands, walking over to her as he sheathes it.

"Mornin' mum." Was all he said to her, for her to know she screwed up. She looks at him and smiles slightly, not showing any anxiousness of any kind.

"Good mornin' deary. Did ya sleep well?" She smiles a bit more as she takes her hand away from her hair and start to walk away from him toward the dining hall. He narrows his eyes and grabs her hand, yanking the satchel out of it.

"Did _you_ sleep at all?" He growls slightly. She frowns slightly and looks at him with a frown.

"Don't talk ta yer mother that way." She says to him in a more than upset tone of voice. She grabs at the satchel and huffs a breath of annoyance once John pulls it away from her grasp.

"I can hardly call you that," he growls at her "You aren't much different at all from the whores that ye see in port, mum.. Unless ye change the way ye act, then as captain of this ship – " He gets interrupted as his mother's hand came crashing upon his cheek. John stumbles onto his knees, dropping the satchel.

His mother had a ruthless look. She snatches the satchel off the wooden deck floor, fuming. She looks at him and raises a finger to him angrily. "You 'ave absolutely _no_ right to talk to yer mother like ye just did and that will not be acceptable. I don't give a damn _who_ the captain o' this ship is, but I will not have it. Understood?" she says to him, awaiting an answer.

John didn't know what came over him at the moment, but he felt threatened, and the way he reacts in a threatened state isn't exactly what you would want to experience. He unsheathed his knife and without thinking, he slashed at his mothers face, leaving two cuts down both of her cheekbones. They had started to bleed and John hadn't realized what he did, widening his eyes. She runs off the ship faster than a whore could sit in a drunken sailor's lap, I will tell you that.

John just stands and walks up the steps slowly in thought of what had just happened. He approaches the helm and walks right past it, pushing open the door to the captain's cabin lazily, and walking over to the desk, sitting and putting his hands in his hair. He sets the knife in front of him, and looks at it for a moment. After long contemplation, he just cleans it. He didn't show any emotion that whole morning, and he didn't see his mom again until the ship left Tortuga. Thomas, being John's first mate, had been one of the last to reboard the Siren and had seen his mother's cuts.

He approaches John with a small frown. "Wos your mum kidnapped or somethin' fer a while? She's got these – " John interrupts.

" – Cuts, yes. I know. She wosn't kidnapped. I did that." He says, having been sitting at his desk calculating how far they were from their next stop and how long it would take to get there, trying to guess what the weather would be like. He hadn't looked up at Thomas when he replied to him. He just stated it so bluntly, Thomas thought he didn't even care.

"You, did that? Why?" He frowns at him, noticing how he hadn't looked up from his work. It was unlike him. John shrugs slightly in response to Thomas' question.

"I'm… Not sure actually. It wos a reflex. She slapped me fer bein' _disrespectful_ or somethin'. I don't quite rememba." He says as he writes a couple things down. "Anyways, raise the anchor and prepare ta set sail." He orders in the calmest fashion Thomas has seen before. Thomas nods and turns to leave the room.

"Aye, captain."

"Oh and Thomas?" Thomas pauses at the door, not looking at John.

"Aye?"

"Get someone ta clean the dining hall. There's food everywhere and it _bugs me_."

* * *

Another note: Honestly this chapter seemed longer but the words of the story (minus this) are roughly the same to chapter 2. Anyways, thanks for reading this chapter and please review! I know this story is gonna take forever to finish and I will start other stories while still working on this one. I also know it won't get as many reviews, follows, views, et cetera et cetera. Anyways, thanks! :3


	4. Be Gone With The Sea Wench

Author's Note: This title might be a little.. *sways hands around* .. Misleading. Just read on, my readers, read on...

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John had to deal with his mother, holding them back and taking up their time every time they stopped in port. Every once in a while, she would sneak someone on board and John would have to turn the ship around just to take him back to port. He eventually got really sick of it.

A day after The Siren had left Spain, Cynthia had a rather distrusting look on her face as she did her work in the morning. She just tied her dark chocolate hair back and worked in silence. This was unusual for her and the crew members knew it. They told her repeatedly that she wasn't always going to be so lucky. She seemed to have thought that anyone would have thrown her off the ship the first time she did it, but since her son was captain, she would have it easy. _Boys are supposed to love their mothers, and that's exactly wot he'll do. I won't get thrown off._ Her thoughts were so wrong, they were almost laughable to anyone who knew John.

John enjoyed the peacefulness his mother was sparing for him that morning. He stood at the helm, giving orders and every now and again, pausing to have the wind blow in his face a bit. He had grown quite fond of the salty air and the breeze that kept you going. It soothed him. He then hears a loud thud, interrupting his peaceful moment and his thoughts. He looks at Thomas, who was beside him. "Go find out wot that wos." He says with a strict voice. He had prepared for something like this. Thomas soon came back with exactly what John was expecting. A stowaway.

Cynthia covered her face and looked away as if she didn't even know what was happening. She could tell that this time she wouldn't be let off that easy. John walks to the steps and slowly walks down them. The rest of the crew knew better than to halt work, so they continued as if nothing was happening as well. Once at the bottom of the steps, John approaches the Spanish man. He had brown hair and brown eyes. He looked a lot like a regular sailor, except, he wasn't part of John's crew.

John looks the man up and down before telling Thomas to bring him to the dining hall and keep and eye on him. Thomas knew this wasn't going to be pretty so he made it to the dining hall quickly, practically dragging the man (who started speaking random Spanish) along behind him. John followed them with his eyes and then his gaze ever so slowly shifted over to one of his only female crew members."Well," He said, rather loud so everyone could hear,"Yet another stowaway. Wot a _surprise_. This is not the first time we've had them, is it?" He walks around the working crew, weaving through them. He stops right in front of his mum. "But it _will_ be the last."

John didn't have to say anything more. She took the hint and stood up right away. "Ye can't do anythin' ta me.. I raised you!"

"No, deary. I am afraid that's not entirely how things went," He gives an honest smile to her. One that sent shivers down her spine. "Thomas raised me. Father raised me. You just stood by, sleepin' with any man ye could get yer hands on. Honestly, _mum_. I wouldn't trust ye one night in port without thinkin' you've gone ta go sleep with someone." At this point her face was red as a cherry, and she couldn't say anything in her defense, because every single piece of what he said was true. "Now.. You got two choices. Listen up, deary 'cause I ain't gonna tell ye again." He smiles to her as he unsheathes his sword and points it at her throat. She just flinches in response and refrains from spitting on him. "You can stop this horrid, unhealthy lifestyle ye've chosen, and try to at least become a real mum, unlike ye have been me whole life. _Or,_ and this is the fun one, you can jump off the side o' this ship wit' yer pretty little Spanish man."

"Go suck yerself dry." Was the only response he was given.

His eyes closed and his smile remained, only emphasizing how pissed off he was. He had heard worse things come from his mother's mouth toward him and all the crew, but at this point, it wasn't the words that surprised him. It was the way she said it. The way she said that to him, sounded like she hated him more than anything in the world. Like if he would have died that very instant, she would have taken captaincy, thrown his dead body to the fishies, and spend the rest of her days fucking ol' pretty Spanish boy if she wanted.

John didn't mean to, but he pressed his sword just a tad bit harder against Cynthia's throat. He wasn't angry, no. He wasn't pissed. He was _infuriated._ He called for someone to go get Thomas, and instantly, one of the crew members obeyed. Every crew member on deck wanted to be the one that ran, because they did not want to stay watching these two for another minute. John just smiles a bit more and calls for another crew member to get the ropes. This was when his mother's eyes widened. John had an idea. And that was not good.

Over the next few hours, John's course had changed. Instead of going to Port Royal to deliver a special package to someone, he went straight into the middle of no where. He smiles when he hears the man in the crow's nest call, "Land ho!" and he looks through his telescope to see the narrow strip of land that lay before him. He let's his ship go about a mile off the coast.

He walks over to tied up Cynthia and her secret lover (who's name was Arnaldo, they learned), eyeing them with a mischievous smirk. "Alright, 'ere's 'ow this is gonna work," He says, pointing his sword at them for the thousandth time. "We're gonna be givin' you two one pistol. With that pistol comes one shot." He explains with a serious look. He then lifts his mother's chin with the end of his sword. "But, we aren't gonna have someone row you two out there.. So.. You'll hafta row yerselves." Cynthia gave a look of shock.

"And how a' we supposed ta do that?" John shrugs slightly.

"No idea, but as soon as yer off this ship, I gotta go, and I can't spend time caring about you. And I can get a new long boat in Port Royal." John says calmly.

" 'Ow could ye do this t'me?" His mother exclaimed. Arnaldo seemed to be getting annoyed of it as well as John.

" _Well,_ to be honest I just explained to you how." He smirks. She growls at him.

"I won't eva f'give you f'this!" She shouts at him. He shrugs slightly.

"I don't ask fer fergiveness," He looks away from them, sheathing his sword. "Hector? Please do the honors."

A large man walked over from his spot on the steps. His hair was brushed back, but a bit of it still hung from the front. He had piercing green eyes, and a slight beard growing. He picks up Cynthia and she squeals and shouts. He flings her over his shoulder (like how Shrek carried Fiona in the first movie) and walks to the long boat. She wasn't able to do much, since her ankles were tied together along with her wrists behind her back. He sets her down inside the boat and does the same with Arnaldo. The only difference was that Arnaldo didn't do anything about it. He knew what was coming to him.

John tosses a pistol into Cynthia's lap as Hector and Louis lower the boat. It was quite difficult, but they got it done. Soon, the Siren was out of sight for Cynthia and Arnaldo. They were in a small boat. With nothing but ropes, two oars that they could barely reach, and a pistol. They were nearly a mile from shore and it seemed it would stay that way until they wash up. They were there for quite a while

* * *

Author's Note: This is a really long chapter, I apologize. XD I had to make sure this was detailed perfectly or I'd lose my mind. Hope this was entertaining for you. Make sure to review this fine piece of writing. Pft, who am I kidding?


	5. An Unfamiliar Voice

Author's Note: Sorry but this is a really short chapter (compared to my others at least) and I will make up for it with a longer chapter tomorrow ;D Maybe.

* * *

John, having grown to be a charming man, had many ladies swooning over him. Yet, he didn't take advantage of any of them. At least not in the way his mother took advantage of drunken sailors. He flirted, but that was pretty much it. He was turning 17 when he and his crew (stupidly) sailed into the Port Liverpool, a high-end port, covered in guards who wouldn't hesitate to pull the lever on a hanging pirate.

They were celebrating his birthday and honestly wanted to "get rid of him for the night", so they went to a bar, and tried to stay gentlemanly, knowing that they were in a highly secure building. If anyone were to ask, like the person at the docks gaining signature and ship name for records, they were sailors from Port Royal, delivering goods.

Only a select few went to the bar with John, including Thomas, of course. John walks to the bar, taking out a small coin purse, looking inside at the contents and counting his coins. He looks at the bartender, smiling kindly. "Bottle o' Whiskey, please." He refrains from cringing slightly when speaking the final word of kindness. The bartender just simply nods and goes to look for where he put the Whiskey, seeing as he had a wide variety of alcohol to choose from. John took a seat along with Thomas on his left and Hector on his right, almost ignoring him. John only ordered for himself and of course, Thomas got annoyed and ordered for Hector and himself after John had received (and paid for) his drink.

They had to act like gentlemen, and damn that was hard for them. Trying not to belch when other men walked by and trying not to pull pistols (or swords for those who didn't know how to shoot :p) on the ones who annoyed them out of their safe zones.

Soon, a voice unfamiliar to them was heard behind them. One that was sweet and kind. Judging by femininity, which was highly feminine, it was female. The only one who noticed this voice was John, however, while Hector and Thomas just continued with their business.

"Excuse me sir, but did you drop this?"


	6. The Strange Woman

**Author's Note -** Sorry I haven't updated this since forever but I have a new chapter, although it's short. The next two chapters will be.. Maybe.. Sorry ;-; I will update frequently as of now since I got back from my three week trip *sigh*

* * *

John turned to see who the voice was coming from. As he turned his head, ignoring the conversation that the other two were having, he takes a small drink of Whiskey.

The woman standing before him was beautiful. She wore a fancy lacy dress, that was a sky blue. The color was so perfect compared to her ivory skin. She stood before him with a white lace parasol that was more likely to be used for looks than weather. Her hair was up in a loose bun, part of her long hair hanging from the side of her face. She wore a beautiful choker, that had what looked like sapphires in it and laced with perfectly sewn fabric. She was shorter than him by nearly half a foot. Her eyes were the most magnificent blue. John was lost in them for a couple of moments before realizing that her arm was extended to him, with something in it.

"Did you drop this?" She repeated herself, her voice shy but caring. He pauses and looks at the item, seeing that it was a pistol. It obviously did not belong in her hands, but it didn't belong in his either, considering he never learned how to shoot any kind of firearm. However, this was indeed his gun, because on the side was an engravement of his father's initials. He hesitates and nods, taking the pistol from her hand carefully.

"Yes," He replies, "Thank you. Where might it have been found?" he says as he puts it back in it's holster. He looks at her eyes as she talks politely.

"I heard it drop when you were walking outside, and I saw you walk into this pub, so I followed you inside to return it to you." She said with the smallest of smiles. She thought to herself what the appearance of this man says about him. He's a traveler, no doubt. He looks strong, but kind as well. "Sorry if I disturbed you." She looked down to her laced hands with a slight frown. John chuckled slightly in response.

"Don't worry, you weren't interruptin' anything." John told her with a small, friendly smile. "Would ya like to join us?" He spoke without thinking and his mind explodes with regret in the question. No doubt this woman is a royal, or in a high class, here.. If she found out anything regarding him or his crew of pillaging, thieving, dreadful pirates, he'd be doomed to the noose. He had a close call with it years ago, and he didn't want to go through that experience again.

"No thank you. I have to go somewhere, but thank you for the offer," She smiled before adding "I will have to take up on it sometime." She wasn't lying, she did have to go somewhere at the time, and in fact, was going to be late. Yet she wanted to spend time with this man. She didn't know why. Maybe it was because he travels around and she wanted to ask him about his travels. Maybe it was because she thought he was handsome and charming. Maybe it was both. Neither? Who knows. She turned to look away from him soon after saying this. She started to walk toward the door of the pub, minding the other men there. When she stepped up to the door, she looks back at the man she'd just met. He was still standing there, watching her with a curious smile. "Do you think you could meet me tomorrow? By the docks?" She called back to him with a smile.

"I would love to..!" He called in response as he takes several steps backward to his seat, still smiling at her. Soon, she was out of sight and he was looking at his crew mates, who were staring at him for some reason. "What?" He looked at them both. They simply shake their heads, looking at their drinks yet again.

"Who wos that?" Thomas asked him before taking another drink of his rum. John furrowed his eyebrows at the question as he played with the glass in front of him.

"I don't know."


End file.
